December 31, 2011

December Photo Project: Day 25

'Tis the season

for gifts of all sizes and shapes and colors,

but mostly the little babe in swaddling clothes.

December Photo Project: Day 24

'Tis the season

for dazzling sights!

December Photo Project: Day 23

'Tis the season

for Dale Jr. gift wrap, worth exactly what I paid for it - 1 cent!

December Photo Project: Day 22

'Tis the season

for sending frantic children outdoors.

December Photo Project: Day 21

'Tis the season

for festive salads.

December Photo Project: Day 20

'Tis the season

for "Winter's End" sales before the season even gets started.

December Photo Project: Day 19

'Tis the season

for Meg's cookie exchange, a swank affair which calls for something impressive.  My offering this year?  Homemade Samoas from here with real caramel from here. 

December Photo Project: Day 18

'Tis the season

for excitement.

December Photo Project: Day 17

'Tis the season

for beer weenies on frilly toothpicks!

December Photo Project: Day 16

'Tis the season

for lessons in destruction

(as if this little boy needed any help).

December Photo Project: Day 15

'Tis the season

for cheesy door prizes.

December Photo Project: Day 14

'Tis the season

for decorating

and eating

faux gingerbread houses (and trees).

December Photo Project: Day 13

'Tis the season

for amazing sunsets.

December Photo Project: Day 12

'Tis the season

to use natural, disposable, and biodegradable decorations.

December Photo Project: Day 11

'Tis the season

for wishing Nana a Happy Birthday.

December Photo Project: Day 10

'Tis the season

for waiting and waiting and waiting

for Christmas parades to start.

(Check out those lashes!)

December Photo Project: Day 9

'Tis the season

for handmade gifts.

December Photo Project: Day 8

'Tis the season

for a partridge ("with a tattoo") in a pear tree.

December Photo Project: Day 7

'Tis the season

for marveling that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

December Photo Project: Day 6

'Tis the season

for decorating with thrifted white containers.

December Photo Project: Day 5

'Tis the season

for A Charlie Brown Christmas.

December Photo Project: Day 4

'Tis the season

for warm, welcoming porches.

December Photo Project: Day 3

'Tis the season

to be merry & bright!

December Photo Project: Day 2

'Tis the season for

frosty mornings.

December Photo Project: Day 1

'Tis the season for

simple hostess gifts.

Josie at 6 months

Look

who's

sitting!

 I think she is pretty pleased with herself.

And so are we!

Thanksgiving 2011

I used to have it all together.

Well, that may be an exaggeration.  Let's just say that I used to think that I had it all together; I never really did.

I'm a maker of lists and a jotter of notes, only more often than not, I lose those scraps of paper.  I've tried notebooks of various sizes, but they get buried in the daily accumulation of stuff (the school papers, the LEGO creations, mail and confiscated toys).

So when my mom called last Tuesday to ask about the Thanksgiving menu, I froze.  Panic set in.

I knew Thanksgiving was coming (who could forget their parents visit, especially when it involved taking three of the kids and 90% of the noise back to their house for a few days?). But, I also knew we had an out-of-town trip the weekend before and I needed to make plans for that (i.e., collecting sewing projects to work on while riding shotgun); it became the sole-project-on-the-brain - no spare cells for menu planning.

"I'll think about Thanksgiving when we return."

Only we didn't come home until dinner time on Monday.  It was raining on Tuesday and there was no way I was going to drag five kids through storms to fill our larder; instead I unpacked and cleaned (and they alternately helped and watched a new LEGO video - shameless advertising that bought me a few minutes of peace!).  Thankfully, our family's menu changes very little, and once it was tattooed on my arm all on paper and stuck to the fridge, I was good to go.

On Wednesday I woke up a determined woman.  Some may say it was insanity (and I happen to agree), but I took my crew to the grocery store on the day before Thanksgiving.  And it wasn't just a handful of items that were needed - I'm talking a total restocking, a taking-advantage-of-the-sales trip, mountains of food.

We were plugging right along until my blood sugar plummeted (oatmeal will do that to you).  Suddenly I got hot, the store seemed extra crowded and I needed to eat.

I grabbed a box of buy-one-get-one-free crackers, and we all dug in.  A curious employee asked me why I was stuffing my face if I needed any help (I love Publix!); I politely declined and explained that I needed a little sustenance so I didn't pass out in the floor leaving the manager to deal with my kids.  His sense of relief was palpable.

Once I felt normal again, we plowed ahead, which is a very accurate description since I was driving one of those massive carts loaded with an assortment of whole and non-so-whole foods to last us the rest of the holiday season.  Spray whipped cream anyone?

Then I remembered the turkey.

A quick whip of the cart and I stood looking at dead birds.  There was no way to fit one, much less two, on our overflowing cart.

Plan B was to dump the kids at the register with the cart and beg for mercy.  The cashier was gracious.  So with Josie strapped to my chest, I grabbed the first two birds I could find and hauled their 26 lb. frozen bulks to the front.  Meanwhile another clerk both amused my kids and unloaded my goods, taking great care not to break eggs or squish bread (did I say I love Publix?).

I left with two carts, full of food and kiddos (and, if there weren't enough reasons already, a kind gentleman took it all out to my van - reason enough to go to Publix!).

And the rest of the day went smoothly.  Doug watched the youngun's and I make pie crust and baked apple pie; I steamed sweet potatoes and assembled sweet potato fluff; I prepared a requisite jello salad and cleared the kitchen counters.  My parents arrived with a pumpkin pie and cornbread dressing.  Ahhh!

And then Thanksgiving Day arrived. We threw the turkey in the oven.  We chatted.

We started a pot of green beans.  We talked.  Stephen and Matthew assisted with stuffed celery.

We used the fancy plates and all the crystal and cut glass that's been gathering dust, but it was relaxed.

No fancy flower arrangements, just nature at its finest.  Several weeks ago we waxed gingko leaves and wrote out things for which we were thankful.  As my dad watched the preparations he asked, "Does this say what I think it does?  An external hard drive?"  Yes, sir; we are thankful for that.

And of course there were pickles, and they tasted so much better out of my grandmother's beautiful cut glass dish.  Numerous Mosolgo grandchildren have cut their teeth on pickles from this dish. 

It was the most perfect day I could have wished for.  No running hither and yon.  No frantic food preparation or culinary crises.  Just a pleasant day spent with people we love.

Something for which we are truly thankful.

The New Creation

Maybe our study of New York has gone to my head a bit or maybe I just want everyone to enjoy all the Thanksgiving holiday has to offer.

The New Creation

Not like the golden bird of Thanksgiving fame,
With a place of honor on the dinner table;
Here at the cleanup, at the meal of leftovers stands
A mighty woman with a pot, a shining pot
Able to hold quart upon quart of liquid, and her name
Mother of Soup.  With her experienced hands
She gathers; her eyes command the kitchen,
The remains of the feast that was enjoyed by all.
"Give me your bones, your drippings,
Your golden bits of skin so tasty,
The delicious refuse of your Thanksgiving meal.
Send these, the scraps, tossed-aside to me,
I lift my stockpot atop the heated stove!"

The Busy Boy

A couple of months I played a guessing game with the boys.  I gave them clues and they had to guess the word which always started with the letter "B". 

"What is Matthew's favorite color?"  Blue!

This can be found on a construction site.  Bulldozer!

What is meat from a cow?  Beef!

This insect makes honey.  Bee!

This is what we say about Jonathan.  Bad!

Busy had been the word I was thinking about though their answer may have some bit of truth.  I keep going to back to Satan's response to Job when asked where he had been: "Roaming through the earth and going back and forth in it."  And instead of looking for someone to devour, Jonathan is searching for something to destroy.

This morning our beloved Jo-Nate became disgruntled over something and crumbled his Ritz into the floor.  While I was busy vacuuming up the remains he disappeared into the bathroom and brought his toothbrush and paste to the the living room rug and proceeded to squeeze out the contents.  While I dealt with that, he went to the kitchen and pulled a half-eaten bowl of yogurt off the counter, splattering the white goo onto the floor and cabinets. He pulled a chair from the far side of our kitchen table around and into the kitchen where he used it as a stepping stool to reach the microwave and the heights of our counters and cabinets to pilfer some more.  When he was shooed away from that, he (unknowingly to me) went back to the bathroom and unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper into the toilet.  While I donned on rubber gloves to scoop the wet mess from the commode, he dumped a box of Cheerios into the floor.

All in a matter of 30 minutes.

It was at that point that I locked him in his room for the rest of the day that I just had to laugh.

But, oh, the reasons to be thankful.  

1.  The good Lord made this boy so cute: soft curls, delightful dimples, chubby hands and feet and an infectious smile (and it's a good thing). 

2. There's no need to schedule a daily workout; I only need to follow him around during the morning and I'm sure to burn plenty of calories. 

3. He usually takes a nap and I love to sneak a peek at this boy of mine: the one who both infuriates and delights; this energizer-bunny-of a kid who keeps going and going and going, always with a smile and a laugh.

What a kid!

Proper Timing

In Boston, one day, she had an unusual experience.  While Papa and Auntie Hoyt waited out of sight somewhere, she had to go by herself into a large room in a department store and listen to someone dressed up like Santa Claus read a Christmas story and 'Twas the Night Before Christmas.  This seemed odd to her for at Thanksgiving time, she was not ready for Santa Claus.  In Cranbury they got through the turkeys and the pumpkins and the Pilgrims before they brought out the Santa Clauses.  She was quite relieved when the whole occasion was over and instead of being abandoned, she found Papa and Auntie Hoyt waiting, beaming, at the door.

Ginger Pye by Eleanor Estes

The Kids in Fall

Sleeping Beauty

Quote of the Day

"Can playing with cars save your soul from hell?" ~ Doug

Song for a Fifth Child

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing and butter the bread,
Sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I’ve grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
 
The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
For children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

     - Ruth Hulbert Hamilton

A Boy's Playground

There's a new middle school being built in our backyard.

Well, not right in our backyard, but within spittin' distance of our house.

There are excavators at work not more than 15 feet from our perch,

loading dirt into an articulated dump truck driven by a woman, no less!

There are bulldozers, graders, and scrapers;

there's a concrete pumper and telehandler; loaders and skid steers; 

and a tap-tap-tapping impact hammer.

Our old playground (some swings and one very, tall slide) have given way to acres of dirt and machinery, building supplies and the occasional rumbles of dynamite. 

With access through a neighbor's yard, we literally stand on the brink of excitement.